


The Witches of Magnus

by Shoulder_Devil



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hocus Pocus Fusion, Background Sasha/Tim, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Gertrude Robinson (mentioned), Ghosts, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 05:03:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 14,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16527914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shoulder_Devil/pseuds/Shoulder_Devil
Summary: In the sleepy town of Magnus, Massachusetts there are stories of witches that lived three hundred years ago and their spell book made from the skin of the dead.When Georgie, Tim, and Sasha accidentally awaken Mary Keay they must team up with the recently summoned ghost of Gerard to stop her before she can complete her ritual.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea came from smashing together multiple of the Magnus prompts in the Trick or Treat exchange. It really got away from the prompts that inspired it and I wasn't sure how it would be received as a gift because of that.  
> Basically, if you think it might be for you, it probably is.
> 
> Better late than never.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The candy has been passed out now it's time for spooky stories and bad decisions

“I hope that was the last group of trick-or-treaters because we’re out of candy.” Tim announced holding the empty bowl upside down in front of him. “And that includes the stash I set aside for myself.”

Sasha grabbed the bowl and pecked a kiss to his cheek. “The candy is for the kids, don’t be greedy.”

“I’ll stop pouting if you promise we can load up on half-priced candy tomorrow.”

“Deal. Turn off the porch light and get in here, I want to hear Georgie tell us about her new job.” She hooked her arm through his and guided him back to the living room.

Georgie set a bowl of half eaten popcorn on the coffee table and brushed her hands off on her skirt. She grabbed the remote and pointed it at the frozen image of some masked killer stalking through a dark hallway.

“You didn’t have to pause it on our account,” Sasha said, settling in on the couch next to Georgie and pulling Tim on her other side.

“It’s not any fun watching it alone.”

Tim grabbed a handful of popcorn and tossed a piece in his mouth. “If you’re not scared, why watch scary movies?”

She shrugged. “I don’t watch them by myself. I like watching other people get scared. It’s fun.”

Sasha took the remote from Georgie and switched off the television. “I for one would rather hear a _real_ scary story. You promised to tell me about your new job at the history museum.”

“I wouldn’t exactly call it a job. I volunteer there a few nights and sometimes on weekends. It’s basically community service.”  

“But there’s that whole section about the witch trials just after Magnus was settled.” Sasha said excitedly, “Are you saying that you haven’t seen anything weird when you were there alone? You haven’t heard whispers from Old Lady Robinson’s skin book?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Tim cut in through a mouthful of popcorn. “Skin book?”

“Oh yeah!” Georgie’s eyes lit up. “We have the spell book taken from Gertrude Robinson when she was convicted of killing Mary Keay. Allegedly, the pages are made from human skin.”

“They haven’t checked to be sure?”

“Magnus is a small town, Tim. There’s old money sure, but no one wants to spend it on something that might debunk a tourist attraction. The Robinson exhibit is one of our most popular.”

Sasha nodded. “I believe it. A little old lady goes on a killing spree in the mid to late 1600s and blames her victims and _dark magic_. It’s a pretty juicy bit of town history and easy enough to capitalize on with tourists with Salem being so close.”

Tim looked back and forth between the two women. “I’m going to need you to back up and start from the beginning because I have _no idea_ what you’re talking about.”

Georgie nudged Sasha with a friendly elbow. “Find this one under a rock, did you?”

“Hey! I don’t live under a rock. I’ll have you know I live in a cave. It’s a lovely cave, with stalactites, my own colony of bats, and in the winter there’s even a bear or two."

“Caves are made of rocks, dear.” Sasha said ruffling Tim’s hair.

“You’re just jealous of my bear but, fair point, carry on.”

“He grew up in Florida.” Sasha said to Georgie.

“Oh, that’s right, I keep forgetting.”   
  
“I wish I could,” Tim sighed. “I swear if any of you start making ‘Florida Man’ jokes I’ll--”

“Take bath salts and try to eat our faces?” Georgie cut in.

Sasha laughed before adding, “Fight an alligator with an office chair?”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I’ll admit, I walked into that one.”

“Florida Man admits defeat in the face of two women clearly out of his league.” Sasha leaned in to rest her head on his shoulder and looked up at him with a playful look in her eyes.

He planted a kiss on her forehead. “Florida Man still wants to hear about this murdering old witch and her creepy skin book.”

“Oh right.” Georgie shifted sideways on the couch so she was facing the other two. “There are plenty of versions of the story but most agree that Gertrude Robinson and Mary Keay started off as friends. Rumor was, the two of them were witches but everyone in town was too afraid to do anything about it. They kept to themselves mostly. That is until their falling out. Mary took her son and struck out on her own.” 

“Mary had a son?” Sasha asked. “I’d always assumed thought the two of them were… Well you know how historians like to label people as ‘close friends’ rather than come out and admit they were a couple.”

“There was never any record of the father. The townspeople assumed Gertrude must have killed him after everything that-- Well, I’m getting to that.

“After Mary moved out people in town started to die under mysterious circumstances or disappear altogether. Sometimes both.”

Tim shifted Sasha to lay more comfortably in his lap. “How do you both die _and_ disappear?”

“People would die and then their body would go missing.”

“Oh.”

“Yup.”

“Tell him about how they found Mary!”

“Right. So there are these two rival witches who _hate_ each other and the town is caught in the crossfire. Something had to give so the town grabs their torches and pitchforks and go witch hunting. They hit up Old Lady Robinson’s place first but she wasn’t in. What they did find was a leather book with each page describing how someone died in detail, most of them people from town.

“They found Gertrude at Mary’s house knife in hand, covered in blood. It looked like she was making another book and she was using Mary’s corpse to do it. Old Lady Robinson swore up and down that Mary Keay did it to herself and that she’d killed all those people. In the end she was found guilty and hanged for murder.

“She was never officially convicted or tried for witchcraft. That whole business came later after Salem but that’s the angle they push to the tourists.”

“Whatever happened to the son?” Sasha asked.

“They never found the body but his is the last page in Old Lady Robinson’s skin book.”

Sasha’s eyes went wide. “She killed a little boy? That’s awful.”

“According to town records he was an adult when he went missing and was presumed dead.”  
  
“Well that’s good. I mean it’s still bad, but it’s less bad.”

“Do you want to see it?” Georgie asked excitedly. “I’ve managed to make friends with the night security. I bet I can get him to let us in.”

“Absolutely!” Tim was already starting to shift Sasha off his lap.

“Wait, what?” Sasha asked. “Now?”

“Of course now! Do you think they are going to let us read the skin book during normal business hours?

“Come on, Sasha. It’s my first Halloween in New England, don’t you want to make it a good one?”

“I mean, it does sound like fun.” She thought about it for a moment but the enthusiasm from the other two was catching. “Okay, I’m in. Let’s do this.” She dug into her purse for her keys.  

“Great! Grab your jackets and I’ll get the cat treats.” Georgie bounded off toward the kitchen leaving a confused Tim and Sasha in her wake.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who's up for a little B&E and some light reading?

“Here kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty. Here kitty. Meow. Come here Admiral, come on.” 

Sasha huddled next to Tim for warmth as Georgie shook her container of cat treats. “Are you sure this is going to work.”

“I’ve managed it before when I locked myself out one night.” 

“You just happened to have a pocket full of cat treats?”

Georgie turned to Sasha and put her hands on her hips. “Do you see me judging your life choices?”

Sasha snorted out a laugh and gestured for Georgie to carry on. Georgie meowed a few more times and eventually a large, long-haired, black cat materialized from the vegetation surrounding the building. 

Tim quirked his eyebrow at Georgie. “Night security?” 

She ignored him in favor of the cat. 

“Mrrroow?” The Admiral sidled up to Georgie and rubbed his face against her leg. She ran her hand along the length of his back and paused to scratch at the base of his tail. 

“Hello there, Admiral. How are you doing this Halloween night?”

“Meow.” 

Georgie shook a few treats into her hand and tossed them to the floor in front of the cat. He descended immediately, purring loudly as he crunched on the treats.

“Good boy!” The Admiral meowed again and reared up on hind legs to pet himself on Georgie’s hand. “I need you to open the gate for me. Do you think you can do that again?”  

“Meow.” 

“Perfect!” Georgie tossed a few treats over the fence. “Go get ‘em!”

The Admiral pushed his way through a gap in the wood fence. Once he disappeared, Georgie reached over the top and began dropping down treats one at a time.  “If I can get him to stand on his back legs to catch the treats, he’ll eventually lean up on the push bar that opens the door.” 

The door popped open seconds after she finished talking and the Admiral slunk through to headbutt Georgie in the leg. Tim caught the door before it could swing shut. Georgie gave him another treat and an affectionate scratch under the chin. Sasha tried to follow suit but the Admiral bolted into the darkness when she reached out to pet him. 

“He’s a bit skittish around strangers. Don’t worry about it, he’s actually a big softy. Give him a couple of treats and he’ll climb in your lap and you’ll never get him out.” 

“Come on guys,” Tim whispered. “I know it’s dark but we probably shouldn’t hang outside more than we need too. 

Tim crossed the small yard and tried the handle on the door. “Locked.” He looked to Georgie. “Is there some kind of badger or something we need to bribe to open this door?”

“For that, we use the key, though I do like your badger idea.” Georgie stood on tiptoe and ran her fingers along the top of the door frame until she found the key stashed there. She unlocked the door and returned the key to its hiding place. 

Sasha looked around the entryway and pointed to a security camera in the corner. “Shouldn’t we be worried about that?”

“Nah, they installed them a while back but there was too much interference to be worth using. They left them up though to make people  _ think _ they are being watched. Come on, this way.” 

Georgie led them past a series of exhibits chronicling the town of Magnus and its history. It was mostly small displays but occasionally there would be a diorama with some taxidermy wildlife or mannequins dressed in pioneer garb.  

The Magnus Witches had a room all their own, restored to look as it might have back in Old Lady Robinson’s day. Tim felt a thrill of excitement as the old, wooden boards creaked underfoot. “This is way better than one of those slick, haunted houses back where I’m from. Feels much more real.”

“It is real,” Georgie said. “The town seized Gertrude’s assets when they arrested her. They farmed the land but people thought the house was cursed and didn’t want to risk releasing anything if they knocked it down. They did just enough maintenance to keep it from collapsing in on itself and let it sit. Eventually enough time had passed that people weren’t as afraid and they started using it to have meetings and store town records. I think the archive is still in the basement though it’s in the process of being digitized at this point.” 

Sasha turned to Georgie with a gleam in her eye. “So Ms Barker, care to give us the tour?” 

Georgie stood up straight with her hands clasped behind her back and nodded to the two of them. Clearing her throat dramatically, she began, “Lady and gentleman, welcome to the former residence of famed mass murder and witch, Gertrude Robinson.” She spread her hand to encompass the small room. “As you can see, she lived a simple life but I can tell that you’re here to see the book!” 

“Indeed we are!” Tim had threaded his arm through Sasha’s and the two of them had adopted the demeanor of a rich couple up from Connecticut making a stop before continuing their winery tour. 

“Right this way.” She stepped aside and gestured behind her to a leather bound volume under a glass case. “Behold! The Book of the Dead!”

Tim lost his composure and snorted out a laugh. “I’m sorry, I was trying so hard to keep a straight face but your cheesy tour guide voice-- I can’t.” 

Sasha broke next, doubling over in giggles. “‘Behold! The Book of the Dead!’ Do you really talk like that when you’re working?”

“I do!” Georgie laughed. “That was pretty much directly from my normal spiel. They eat that shit up here.” 

“Okay, let’s see it then,” Tim said, getting himself back under control. He stepped to the case and frowned. “It’s closed. I thought we were here to find out what the book said about Mary’s son’s death. Is there a transcription of the writing anywhere?”

“That’s odd. The book was open yesterday.” 

“Damn, that sucks.” Sasha sighed and turned to look at an assortment of herbs hung up to dry. “Well it’s been fun but we should probably head back.” She spun back at the sound of plexiglass scraping against wood to see Georgie lifting the case away from the book. “Georgie, what are you doing!?”

“I told you, it was open yesterday.” She setting aside the heavy plastic with a soft grunt. “Besides, it wasn’t locked.”

“Aren’t you scared of getting in trouble?” Tim asked. “You could lose your job.” 

“It’s not a job, I’m a volunteer. And I already told you, Stoker, I don’t get scared. So,” she regarded her two companions, “who wants to do the honors?”

Sasha put a hand on Tim’s as he stepped forward. “Don’t.” 

He flashed her a grin. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

She shook her head and failed to hide a smile. “You really just said that didn’t you? Here we are, having broken into a place that if ghosts exist--” 

“Ghosts exist.”

“--is  _ absolutely _ haunted,” Sasha continued, ignoring Georgie’s interruption. “And you want to read the creepy skin book that is probably written in Latin or Aeramic or something.” 

“I think your friend must be rubbing off on me.” 

Sasha shot a withering look at Georgie who just shrugged and turned to Tim. “Are we doing this?”

“We’re doing this.” Tim gave Sasha’s hand a squeeze as he pulled away. 

“Why am I surprised that the two of you are enabling each other. I should have seen this coming.” 

The book looked ancient but at the same time supple. It had been very well cared for over the years. There was no title printed on the cover only a brass plaque screwed into the display table reading ‘Book of the Dead’. Tim reached a tentative hand to the cover, looking to Georgie for confirmation before touching the leather. She nodded and leaned in closer. 

It was soft and yielding, like a floppy soft cover textbook. The first page was covered in cramped, cursive writing. Only one in every five words or so were legible. “Skip to the end?”

Georgie wet her lips and nodded again. Tim felt a presence at his back as Sasha stepped into his personal space to peer over his shoulder. The pages were heavier than he anticipated, sturdier too. The writing on the last page was in a clearer hand than the first but Tim still had trouble making out the cursive. 

Tim squinted in the low light. “If I’m reading this right, his name was Gerard and he died of some kind of wasting disease?”

“Lemme have a look.” Georgie shifted to the front of the group to peer at the book. Her eyes lost focus and she started mumbling under her breath. Her fingers brushed the page and her head snapped forward startling Sasha and Tim back a step.    
  
She continued her recitation, her voice gaining strength as she went. “And so, Gerard Keay ended.” 

Georgie stood stock still as the world held its breath. There was no clap of thunder or flash of lightning. Whatever happened was more subtle than that. After a moment Georgie blinked her eyes and shook her head. The three of them exchanged glances. They knew something was different, that they weren’t alone. 

Before they could turn to face whatever had joined them a tired voice echoed from behind them. 

“You’re new.”

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Lanky, too-black hair hung over pale skin and sharp eyes that regarded his summoners with feigned boredom. Gerard Keay had a translucent quality to him but didn’t glow or fade to nothing at the waist or float in the air like Tim would have expected from a ghost. His simple, black shoes were planted solidly on the floor in front of them. Under a black overcoat, he wore a long linen shirt, breeches unfastened at the knee, and tall wool socks all in blue so dark it was almost black.

“Oh my god, he’s a goth!” Tim gasped.

 _“Tim!”_ hissed Sasha, slapping his chest with the back of her hand.

Gerard ignored Tim and flicked his eyes around the room to take in his surroundings. “This is… different.” An ethereal resonance warped his words as he spoke them. “Did you kill her then? Is she dead.”  

“Old Lady Robinson?” Georgie asked. “We didn’t kill her but yeah, she’s dead.”

“How long? How did it happen?”

“She was executed for murder over three hundred years ago.”

That information rocked Gerard back on his heels. “I-- I’ve been bound in that book for three _hundred_ years? God’s wounds, I knew it was a long time but...” He passed his hand through a nearby beam and flexed his fingers with a grimace. “Who did she kill?”

“It was the mutilation and murder of Mary Keay that got her hanged. She was suspected of having killed over twenty people but without bodies, they couldn't prove it.”

His echoing bark of laughter startled a yelp out of Sasha. “What’s so funny?”

“Of all the people, the one…” he gasped, pulling himself under control. “The one she didn’t actually kill is what did her in. What was she doing to the body?”

“She was making another spell book.”

“ _Mary_ was making a book. Those wounds were self inflicted, her ‘transformation’ she called it. I guess Gertrude didn’t manage to stop her before she started the ritual. No wonder I’m still bound to that damn book.” Gerard shook his head and sighed.

“What _exactly_ is going on here?” Tim finally spoke up. “That is... a _ghost_ or a really elaborate prank on Georgie’s part-- Which, if so, well done. Either way, you both seem to be totally fine with this!”

“Georgie’s been ghost hunting for years.” Sasha said. “She took me out a couple of times when I was home from college.”

“So this…?” he gestured vaguely to Gerard.

“Isn’t something that bothers me,” Georgie finished. “I told you, I don’t get scared. I don’t know what you’re complaining about, you were really excited about this just a minute ago. ”

“I didn’t expect--” Tim’s mouth worked open and closed as he tried to form words. “O-Okay then. I guess this is happening.” He dropped his hands to his sides in defeat. “We’re talking to a ghost about his dead mom and the witch that apparently _didn’t_ kill her after all. Happy Halloween, everyone!”

Gerard pinned him with a glare, “What was that last part?” His voice was nearly solid for the first time.

“Happy Halloween?”

Gerard’s eyes went wide, “tonight is All Hallow’s Eve?”

Tim cocked his head in confusion. “Yes?”

Gerard threw his arms up in an exasperated sigh. “This is worse than I thought. Even with an unfinished ritual what’s left of Mary might actually have power on Samhain. She could complete her work and this,” he gestured to his ghostly form, “will have been all for nothing.”

“You’re saying she’s not dead?” Georgie asked.

“If we’re lucky she’s clawing her way out of the ground as we speak.”  
  
Tim narrowed his eyes. “How does a three hundred year old zombie make us lucky?”

“It’s better than her manifesting as something more powerful than mere flesh. Mary thought she found a way to conquer death. Not just to avoid her own but to gain complete power over all life and death.” He pointed to the still open tome behind Sasha. “It involved that book, binding it to her somehow and taking its power for her own. I managed to nick it and get it to Gertrude for safe keeping. She must have found another way, mum always was resourceful and impatient, a bad combination. It went wrong or her body wouldn't have died until she’d finished. She’s going to be after that book to get it right this time.”

“The book belonged to Mary?” Sasha interrupted. “Did she kill all those people the book talks about?”

“Not all of them, most of the pages pages were made by previous owners. Gertrude made the last page though, my page.”

“What about the others, can they be summoned too?”

Panic flooded Gerard’s features. “Don’t! Don’t summon anyone else. We don’t know who’s loyal to Mary! We have to stop her. You have to help me.”

“Absolutely.” Georgie responded immediately.

“Now hang on a minute,” Tim stepped between the two of them, “you don’t even know what he’s asking. Sasha, back me up on this.”

“I trust Georgie,” she said firmly. “If she says we help, we help.”

Tim was caught between Gerard’s pleading eyes, the compassion on Sasha’s face, and Georgie’s fearless determination. When Sasha looked at him the tension bled away from his shoulders. “And I trust you.”

“Glad you’re on board.” Georgie flashed the two of them a bright smile. “So Gerard, it would seem most of what I know about what happened back then was passed down by a bunch of crusty, old, white dudes who never even came close to understanding what was actually going on.” Sasha snorted out a laugh while Georgie continued. “Would you be so kind, Mr Keay, to illuminate us on the subject and what we need to do?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun facts I found while doing a bit of research on Gerard's look  
> -The color blue was closely associated with servitude and was a popular color of colonial clothing worn by servants.  
> -Black hair dye has existed as far back as ancient Egypt


	4. Chapter 4

According to Gerard, Mary and Gertrude were in fact friends for a long while, they had practically raised him together. The two witches studied magic in England before deciding to make the crossing to the New World when the witch hunting in Europe became more and more frequent. 

They had never really seen eye to eye and eventually had a falling out. Gertrude was focused on knowledge for the sake of knowledge, to protect dying traditions (not that she was beyond using magic when it suited her). Mary was after power. She felt slighted that they had been forced to move to the Americas and wanted to become powerful enough to return home without fear of what the Hunters might do. 

Through all this Gerard had tried to keep his head down. He barely remembered England, he’d been so young when they left it, and had no love for the place. Mary did her best to groom him to follow in her footsteps but he wasn’t interested in paying the same price and sacrificing others for power. 

Mary had been killing people to add to her book for his entire life but it wasn’t until after they’d moved away from Gertrude that she got really brutal. Gertrude sent over her assistant to spy, Michael Shelly. Mary saw through the subterfuge and killed him. 

“Once he was dead she sewed his mouth shut, said she always hated his laugh. She didn’t even make a page for her book, just had me bury him in the back garden.” Gerard winced at the memory.

“As far back as I can remember I knew what she was but I could never seem to abandon her. When she killed Michael, that was finally it. I stole the book, took it to Gertrude, and I worked with her for a while. Mary was furious. Said I was destroying the legacy she built and that I would regret it if I didn’t bring the book and come home.”

The specter in front of them sighed.“Then I started to get sick. It became harder and harder not to do what she said. I was fighting myself as much as I was fighting her by the end.”

“Gertrude didn’t help?” Sasha asked.

“Mary had her hooks in me so deeply there wasn’t much she could do. I’d like to think she took a moment to mourn my passing but I doubt it,” a wry smile twitched the edge of his lips. “She was never one for compassion. Gertrude bound me to the book. She told me she had a way to stop Mary but that I was backup in case it didn’t work. Seems like it didn’t and as long as Mary exists so will I. I can’t be free until she’s gone.” 

After a quiet moment Georgie stood up. “So what do we need to do?” 

“I’m not sure, exactly. If we can destroy her physical form that should keep her from ever being able to come back. That should be our priority. At the very least we need to keep that book away from her until the end of Samhain. When that passes she  _ might _ be pulled back from the living world if she hasn’t collected enough power to stay.

“Georgie, you’re the history nerd,” Sasha declared. “What happened to Mary’s body after they found it?”

“Enough people objected to burying her at the church, on holy ground, that she was laid to rest somewhere on her property. I know her house was somewhere in or around Pinhole park but here aren’t any grave markers that I know of that mention her.” 

“It’s a few miles east of town, About an hour’s walk from here. We can get there sooner if we hurry.” Gerard tried to grasp a lantern hanging on the wall only to have his hand pass through it causing it to sway slightly as if struck by a gust of wind. 

Tim winced. “It’s been over three hundred years remember? I’m not sure if any of the landmarks you know are still there.” 

“They didn’t preserve her house like they did this one.” Georgie added. “It wasn’t until witch tourists became a thing that the city council even cared. Before then it was all about New England’s beautiful fall color. Pinhole Park is a good place to start though. There are a few clearings I in the woods that could have been homesteads, we can work out from those. If she’s got to physically climb out of her grave, that kind of thing shouldn’t be too difficult to spot.” 

Sasha nodded. “Gerard, do you see anything we need to take with us?”

“Aside from the book?” He had another look around the restored room and pointed to a bundle of dried leaves hanging from the ceiling. “Some sage wouldn't hurt.”

Tim grabbed the book from the table. “It’s warm.” 

“It does that when…” Gerard gestured to himself.

“Well okay then, I’ll just add that right on the pile of weird that is tonight.” 

Tim offered the book to Georgie who shook her head. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. When I touched it…” she looked confused. “It just wouldn’t be a good idea.” 

“Fair enough.” Tim spotted a tote bag on a display in the gift shop corner. He checked the price tag, dug out his wallet, and smacked a twenty dollar bill on the counter. 

Sasha squinted at him. “What are you doing?”

“I’m not just going to steal from here.” She looked pointedly at the book in his hands. “That’s different! Besides, now there’s enough left over for these.” He plucked three novelty lighters from the counter and passed them out. “One for each of us.” 

Georgie looked like she was about to protest then shrugged and accepted the lighter.  “I can fix the inventory later.” She slid the twenty through the slot in the cash drawer and headed for the door.  

Heading out of Old Lady Robinson’s house, the Admiral greeted Georgie with a headbutt to the leg as they left. “You be a good night watchman,” she said with a scratch under his ear and along his jaw. 

The Admiral gave a purr and rubbed along her outstretched hand. His ears swiveled to the door the moment Gerard crossed the threshold. There was a brief thrash of sleek tail before he leaped to the space in front of the apparition. 

“Hello, cat. Do you mind if I pass? I have something very important to do.” He crouched down and extended a hand, palm down, fingers curled in. 

The Admiral sniffed twice at Gerard’s hand and sneezed. He then ducked his head and tried to pet himself on it. There was a moment of resistance, more resistance than any of the objects he’d tried to touch in the room. Gerard jerked back at the contact and shook his hand as if it had been burned. 

“Are you okay?” Sasha asked.

“Fine. Cats and ghosts, I guess.” He smiled and dodged another of the Admiral’s friendly advances. 

Tim reached down to try and make friends but had no more luck than Sasha did on the way in. “Everyone’s a critic,” he huffed as the Admiral disappeared into the night.   

“Let’s go,” Sasha called from ahead of him. 

“Right.” 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a hike and a hug

Pinhole Park was a decent sized green space that sat a few miles east of Magnus’s old town center. A playground with jungle gym, swings, slide, and a merry-go-round sat near the brick archway that served as the park’s entrance. Several walking paths crossed manicured lawns and disappeared into wooded sections. The wrought iron gate set into the brickwork was closed, bearing a sign that announced the park closed at dusk. 

“It’s closed, what now?” Tim sighed.

“Closed maybe,” Sasha grinned, “but locked? I don’t--” 

“It’s locked,” Georgie announced pulling on the metal bars.

Sasha cursed. 

Tim eyed the fence extending from the entrance. “Are we climbing? It’s not that high, just keep an eye on the spiky bits at the top.”

“If we’re breaking in, should we at least move the car? It  _ is _ Halloween and the cops are going to be on the lookout for miscreants and hooligans.” Sasha gave Tim a knowing glance.

“Which one am I?”

“A little of each with more than a dash of troublemaker thrown in,” she smiled.

“I,” he said, taking her arm in his and leading her to the car, “will take that as a compliment.” 

Georgie pretended to be annoyed by their banter. “We can check the entrance on the far side, maybe we’ll have better luck there.” 

Sasha parked her car in a secluded spot away from sight of the main road. Georgie hopped out to  rummage through the trunk for things they might need when dealing with Mary Keay, grumbling about how much better supplied they would be if they had taken her car. 

The other entrance was locked as well but had enough of a gap for them to squeeze through. All except Gerard who braced himself and walked through the gate. 

“I think I’ll get used to cars before I get used to that feeling,” he said with a shudder. 

“Any of this look familiar?” Georgie asked, passing a handful of bungee cords and fluorescent tow cable through to Sasha.

Gerard turned in a full circle and shook his head. “I don’t think so. If I can find the creek then I might be able to find it from there.” 

Georgie led them down a path that led back into the woods. After a few minutes they came to a small creek with a plank wooden bridge. “How about now?”

Gerard looked to the stars to get his bearings and pointed. “North from here, I think. Do you know these trails well?”

“Well enough. If we keep following this one it hangs a left, sorry north, for a ways. If it wanders too far there are plenty of deer paths around here to follow. 

The night was clear enough with enough moon that they were able to follow the designated trail without trouble. When they left the trail Georgie dug a flashlight out of her purse. Gerard startled away from the sudden light. 

“Sorry, I keep forgetting you’re new to all… this.” 

Gerard inclined his head slightly. “If all the changes in the world can help catch Mary off guard, I think I can manage.” 

“You keep calling her Mary.” Tim observed. 

“She…” he paused. “Our relationship was complicated.” 

“I’ll bet.”

“She saw herself as more my teacher than my mother. Seeing as how she would rather see me dead than not in her service…”

“Right, sorry I brought it up.” 

There was a loud crack of a breaking branch nearby. Georgie swung her flashlight in the direction of the sound and peered into the trees.

“Probably a deer.” Sasha suggested without the barest shred of confidence in her voice. 

“Yeah, I’m sure it is,” Tim deadpanned. “Because that’s the kind of night we’re having.” 

“Shut up, both of you!” Georgie hissed. 

“Keep going, I’ll have a look. It’s not like I can get hurt.” Gerard walked toward the disturbance without waiting for a response. 

“Gerard!” Georgie sighed and shook her head. “Fine, let’s go, but keep your eyes peeled.” 

“If I see any terrifying monsters or open graves, you’ll be the first to know.” Tim dug his phone out of his pocket and checked the screen. “I’ve only got forty percent battery left and I don’t want to drain it all. You wouldn’t happen to have a spare flashlight would you.” 

“Actually yes,” she whispered. “I like to be prepared.”

“You grabbed that one from my glove box,” Sasha teased. “You don’t get to take credit for that.” 

“I didn’t see you getting it out to bring with us.”    
  
“I was driving at the time. Besides, it was my idea to bring the cords.”   
  
Tim choked back an incredulous laugh. “I keep thinking I’m getting used to all this and then you mention the possibility of tying up an old lady to burn her as a witch.” 

“She _ is _ a witch.” Gerard said from just behind Tim’s shoulder startling him into nearly dropping the bag containing the book. 

“Gah! Don’t  _ do _ that!”

“Well, she’s really more a monster at this point. And she wouldn’t hesitate to kill any of you. I wouldn’t feel too bad about burning her.” Gerard waved them forward. “I found something, follow me.” 

Gerard led them through the woods to a patch of younger trees. He pointed to a pile of stones overgrown with brambles. “That’s the property marker for the northwest corner of our land. We didn’t have much, from here south to the creek and a few acres east to the other marker.”

“Spread out,” Georgie said. “We need to cover more ground but don’t get too far, we don’t want her to get the drop on any of us.” She set out to search but looked back to the others frequently.

Tim clicked on his borrowed flashlight and began scanning the underbrush. Sasha took a few steps away and did the same with her phone. They focused on the ground ahead of them and didn’t speak much as they searched. With the sounds of the forest and their own footsteps in the fallen leaves it was anything but silent. There was a sharpness to the air but not to the point of bitter cold. A lovely autumn night, perfect for a hike in the woods to hunt for an undead death witch. 

“I think I found something.” Tim's light landed on a fresh mound of earth, casting the hollow behind it into deep shadow. 

“Wait, you too?” Georgies surprised tone caught everyone’s attention. 

“What do you mean-- Oh no,” Tim turned to Gerard. “What are the odds that they buried her in multiple pieces?” he sounded oddly hopeful. 

“I don’t think they would be willing to desecrate her body like that, but maybe?”

“I really hope they were. Otherwise we have at  _ least _ two newly risen corpses to deal with.” Tim’s eyes darted around, trying to look everywhere at once. 

Sasha put her phone away to dig in her purse. “Should I break out one of the road flares?” 

“We should save those, we’re probably going to need them.” Georgie insisted. 

Georgie noticed Gerard standing over the grave she found with a hand to his mouth and a look of horror on his face. “What’s wrong?” 

He crouched down to try and brush the dirt away from something in the grave. Only the faintest trickle of dirt fell away from what she now realized was a knife. He cursed softly under his breath and then again louder as he stood. “This wasn’t Mary’s grave, it’s Michael’s. That was the knife he always carried. I warned him he was going to lose a finger someday spinning it like he did. It must have fallen out of his pocket when she--” He heaved out a sigh. 

“Did she dig him up?” 

Gerard indicated the spray of dirt around them. “This is from something coming out of the ground, not digging in. If she could do that than this might be harder than I thought.” 

“Maybe she used up some of her energy and made herself weaker in the process.” 

“Hey,” Tim called over, holding up the tote bag. “This thing is getting really hot. I’m a little worried that it mi--” 

Tim pitched forward as a dark figure grabbed him from behind and they crashing them both to the ground. The book flew forward out of his hands to land several feet away. 

“Grab the book,” Gerard shouted as he ran forward.

Tim struggled to get out from under his attacker and managed to catch an elbow to the side of the head for his trouble. He struck a knee up hard where he hoped their groin might be. There wasn’t the strong reaction he was hoping for but it knocked the thing off balance and he was able to roll away.

An inhuman grunt came from the thing as Gerard’s tackle passed right through. It picked itself off the ground, all gangly limbs and messy blond curls nearly black with mud. The zombie’s lips had been stitched closed with coarse thread but its eyes were uncharacteristically lucid despite the decayed flesh surrounding them. They watched as Sasha scooped up the bag and backed up toward where Georgie was holding the knife out in front of her. 

The walking corpse of Michael Shelly pointed at the women and made a muffled yet insistent sound. 

“I don’t think so.” Georgie stepped forward to put Sasha behind her. “You, get back.” 

“Michael,” Gerard said in a calming voice like he was trying to calm a panicked horse. “Michael, look at me.” 

Michael turned and made an inquisitive sound of noise in his direction. 

Gerard approached with his hands out, placating “You don’t want to do this. I don’t know what Mary has done, is doing to you, but please don’t hurt these people.” 

He pointed a wrinkled hand, more frantic this time and kept walking forward. Georgie planted her feet shoulder width apart and brought the knife up to eye level. 

“Michael, we’re trying to stop her. Where did Mary go?”

The zombie continued to ignore Gerard as he continued clumsily toward Georgie. Seeing he was distracted, Tim took the opportunity to circle behind him. Georgie made eye contact with him and subtly shook her head. He hesitated for just a moment before yelling out, “Sasha, run!” and grappled with Michael. 

“Goddammit, Tim!” Georgie yelled as she tried to get a hold of one of Michael’s arms. 

“Michael, stop this,  _ please.” _ Gerard begged. 

Michael continued to grunt and fight until he got a hand around Georgie’s wrist. She twisted ineffectually in his grip as Tim hammered at his back and shoulder with the base of his flashlight. The nails on Michael’s hands were long and sharp where the desiccated skin had pulled away from them. Georgie cried out in pain and dropped the knife.

The reaction was immediate, Michael released Georgie and dropped to the ground, pawing through the leaves after the fallen knife. Dead fingers closed around metal with a triumphant shout. Tim and Georgie both backed off to put more distance between themselves and the newly armed Michael. 

Michael sat on the ground and admired his knife in the moonlight. He twirled it once, fumbled, and dropped it into the leaves. Quickly retrieved, he held it again and brought it to his face. One by one, he cut through the thread holding his mouth closed then folded the knife and put it in his pocket. 

Several moths fluttered out into the night as Michael worked his newly freed jaw. He took a great gasping breath. The air hiccuped in his chest causing Michael to let out a high giggle ending with a sigh. “Oh, my. That is  _ so _ much better.” He flopped backwards onto the ground with another laugh. “You have no idea how much that tickled,” he sighed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Billy is probably my favorite character in Hocus Pocus, I couldn't leave him out!


	6. Chapter 6

The sound of Michael’s distinct laughter lured Sasha back from her hiding spot. The cluster of the living gathered together to watch a ghost tentatively approach a zombie. Gerard moved toward the giggling Michael with caution. They couldn’t make out his words but his tone was low and soothing. 

“Gerard Keay, zombie whisperer.” Tim muttered under his breath earning him friendly backhand to the chest from Sasha. 

“Tim Stoker, zombie hugger,” she shot back.

“I’ll have you know that was wrestling,” he insisted. 

Georgie chimed in, “looked more like an awkward hug to me.” 

“Florida Man hugs zombie in moonlit grove after asking girlfriend to leave.” Sasha teased. 

“I ship it.” 

Tim sighed in mock offense at their teasing. He wrapped his arm around Sasha’s waist in a protective embrace. 

After a few minutes of tense conversation Gerard stood and offered a hand up to Michael. He attempted to take it only to pass right through. Gerard winced at himself and apologized as Michael levered himself to his feet. He stood by awkwardly, giving them some space as Gerard came up to the rest of them.

Georgie had produced a can of pepper spray from her purse and was holding it loosely in one hand. “Is he going to try and kill us again?” 

Gerard shook his head. “No, he wants to help us stop her.”

Sasha quirked an eyebrow and held tighter to the book. “Why?”

“She offered me a ‘place of power’ in exchange for helping her,” Michael began. “But after this,” he gestured to the cut thread hanging from his lips, “and this,” he spread his arms wide to encompass himself, “I think I know better than to trust her even if she didn’t look like some kind of demon.”

Tim inclined his head in a shrug as the others relaxed slightly. Georgie lowered her arm but did not put return the can of pepper spray to her bag. 

“What do you mean, demon?” Georgie pressed.

“She was bald, dressed in rags, and every inch of her skin was covered in writing. Her eyes though, they didn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen on a person before.”

“So what now?” Tim asked. 

“Mary left to deal with Gertrude before she could disrupt her ritual a second time. She didn’t know how long we’d been underground.” Michael’s laugh trailed away with his characteristic sigh. “Oh, she’s in for a surprise.” 

Georgie chewed on her lower lip. “That buys us some time at least. Do we have any way of tracking her or doing anything to her once we find her?”

“I can track her in the woods,” Gerard offered, “but once she gets to one of the new roads I’ll likely lose her trail. She was heading for Gertrude’s house but once she sees how much the world has changed we have no way of knowing what she’ll do.” 

“We can go back to my place and regroup. I have a police scanner. The cops are more likely than we are to spot her. It’s much easier than running ourselves ragged combing the whole town. In the meantime we can work on an actual plan.”

Sasha yawned. “I like that idea, let’s do that.”

Getting everyone situated in Sasha’s car was a chore now that there were five of them. Add to that the state of Michael and things got a bit awkward. He didn’t smell  _ exactly _ but there was a sort of damp about him that Sasha wasn’t thrilled about getting all over the inside of her car. They ended up draping a seat with the emergency coat Sasha kept in the trunk and Tim’s jacket. 

Michael was fascinated by the modern world. While fumbling around in the car he found the button to roll down the window and he immediately stuck his head outside. Tim had to pull him back quickly before he got his head knocked off by a passing lamp post. As comical as a thought that might have been, chasing after Michael’s severed head like a rogue basketball in the dark was something he’d rather avoid. 

As soon as they got to her place Georgie fired up the police scanner. Hot beverages were distributed and they settled in to listen and discuss how to deal with Mary. The scanner crackled to life with a dispatcher sending a unit out to deal with a complaint about an over loud party. 

Georgie was against the idea of looking through the book for clues. She wouldn’t say exactly why, only that it gave her the same feeling as an encounter she had on a ghost hunt at a hospital years ago. Gerard gave her a knowing look but when Sasha asked about it Georgie ignored her and changed the subject. 

By 2 am there was some increase in chatter as the bars closed for the night but so far nothing that sounded like Mary had been called in. The best plan they had so far was to keep the book hidden and wait her out. Unless they could set a trap to lure her to them, it was too risky to go after her. 

Tim and Sasha were fading fast and decided they weren’t going to be any good if they didn’t try and get at least  _ some _ sleep. Gerard volunteered to keep watch with Michael and wake them if anything came across the scanner. Georgie was too wired to sleep but sent the other two off to make themselves comfortable. 

“You can take the bed, I don’t mind.” 

“I can be a heavy sleeper and I’d rather be close by and easy to wake if something happens,” said Tim from where he was settling in on the couch.

Sasha put on her best innocent face. “And I would never dream of sharing a bed with a man unchaperoned.” She looked to Tim, “You sir, will not besmirch my innocence.” 

Gerard and Michael exchanged glances. “Neither of us are clergy and Gerard has had more than his fair share of unchaperoned time with persons to remain nameless.” 

“I didn’t know it was possible for a ghost to blush!” Sasha smiled at Gerard’s self conscious fidgeting at Michael’s comment. “Tim’s right though, we should stay close. Georgie, you should get some sleep too.”

“I will in a bit.” 

Sasha gave her a dubious glance, “If you say so.”

 

* * *

 

Hours later Georgie still toyed with the handle on her mug. Looking across the counter at Gerard and Michael she smiled. “A zombie, a ghost, and a paranormal investigator walk into a bar…” 

Michael set down the knife he was playing with and steepled his long fingers in front of him, waiting for her to continue with interest. When she didn’t he glanced to Gerard who shrugged. Georgie shook her head and finished her tea. 

“It was the start of a joke.”

“What’s the end?” asked Michael, picking back up his knife

She huffed out a bitter laugh. “The end? That’s the joke right there.”

“I don’t-- What?”

“Michael, why don’t you have a look around, check the windows and make sure nothing is lurking outside.” 

“Um, sure, that seems like a good idea.” Michael jumped at the chance to exit the increasingly awkward situation gracefully. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Once Michael had left Gerard went to put a hand on Georgie’s and stopped just shy of touching her. He backed off and folded his hands on the table. “You’ve been touched by the End, haven’t you?” It wasn’t a question. “That’s why you were able to use the book.” 

Georgie clutched the mug in her hands and stared into it, pointedly not looking at Gerard. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m not asking you to.” He shifted his weight, “Whatever it was though, it will draw Mary to you. As soon as she sees you she’ll know and she’ll want to take it from you.” 

“She can have it.” Georgie locked eyes with Gerard. 

“You’ll die.” 

Her eyes softened. “Oh.” She looked back to her mug and lapsed into silence. “I don’t want to die,” she said eventually.

“That’s good, I don’t want you to either. If Mary comes after you, don’t let her take it. You’re strong, Georgie, I know you can fight her.”

“How?”

“Hold on to that part of you and don’t let go. That part that is achingly hollow and empty but burns with the will to live anyway. The part of you that wouldn’t let it devour your life, that still won’t.”

“Sure, okay,” she responded quietly, eyes lost in the middle distance. 

“I like you, Georgie. You offered to help me before you even knew what I was asking. You’re a good person. No matter what you may think about yourself.”

“Thanks...” she took a moment to process what he just said. “Thanks, so are you.” 

Gerard’s lips twitched in a reluctant smile. “I wasn’t always, I let a lot of bad things happen, but I’m trying to be better.” He looked at and then through his own hands. “I think it might be too late for that though.” 

“You’re here aren’t you? I don’t think that counts as too late.” 

“I suppose,” he sighed. 

Georgie cocked her head, her eyes regaining their previous sharpness. “Do you feel that?”

“No, what is it?”

She scrunched up her face in thought. “It’s kind of like a sound. Low, more vibration than noise in the pit of my stomach. I thought I was just hungry but it’s getting worse and I can feel it in my teeth now.” 

Gerard’s eyes went wide, frantically casting about the kitchen. the space on the counter previously occupied by Mary’s skin book was empty. “Where’s the book?” 

Georgie made to grab at his shoulders. Pins and needles formed in her fingers when they passed through him as if they had fallen asleep. “Where’s Michael?”

They rushed from the kitchen in search of him. Georgie paused in the living room to shake Tim and Sasha awake. “Get up! Michael’s gone and so is the book.” Tim’s groggy reply followed her as she dashed down the hallway checking rooms for Michael Shelly. 

Gerard found him in a basement room facing the small, high set east window. The first rays of dawn were just filtering in. He had the book open on the bed and was reading aloud in a language he was sure Michael didn’t speak. The fact he was reading at all was a surprise in itself as Michael had never learned his letters. 

“Michael, stop! What are you doing?”

The person who looked up from that book wasn’t Michael. It may have had the same features but everything about its demeanor was wrong. The eyes that bored into his were the same that judged him wanting his entire life. 

“Hullo, Gerard, so nice of you to join us.” The voice was Michael but the inflection was all Mary. 

“Be a dear and give your mother a hug.” 

“You stopped being my mother when you killed me.” Gerard could hear footsteps above him. The others were still searching the first floor and hadn’t made it downstairs yet. 

“Oh, that wasn’t me,” She said smug with knowledge. “Gertrude hammered that final nail in your coffin to keep you from coming home to me where you belong.” 

Gerard clenched his fists. This had to be a distraction, some kind of stall for time. There! Michael’s face. His expression flickered for just a moment, he must be fighting back.

“Let him go, Mary. Haven’t you already done enough to him?”

She tsked through ragged lips. “You have to make sacrifices if you want to get anything, dear. I tried to teach you that but that was a lesson you refused to learn.” She softened Michael’s face. “But I’m willing to look past all that, start fresh.” She opened his arms and waited for a hug that would never come. 

“I’m not an idiot, Mary. If you want to absorb whatever energy I have left you are going to have to come and take it.” 

The creak of footsteps on stairs announced the arrival of the living was not long off. 

“Very well,” she sighed, dropping all pretense of a caring mother. “I won’t allow you to continue to work against me.” She turned to the last page of her book. “Gerard Keay.” 

His vision dissolved at the edges. He sucked in a panicked breath, “NOOO--” 

“I dismiss you.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

Gerard’s cry hung in the air like a fading dream despite the sudden cut to echoing silence. 

“Gerard!” Georgie cried as her eyes slipped from the place he used to be. When she forced them back he was gone.

Michael locked eyes that weren’t his with Georgie’s. A knowing smile crept across his features for a moment before the orange light in his eyes flickered and he shook his head. Tim pushed past her and threw a handful of white granules at the now distraught looking Michael. His hands flew up to his eyes with a cry of pain. Spitting salt as he went down, he stumbled and fell onto his back.

The reverberation building inside of Georgie was gone, replaced with a hollow ache of loss. It was if her insides had been replaced with a rubber band stretched taut and now snapped. Her knees folded under her and she collapsed. Sasha caught her arm and lowered her the rest of the way to the floor. She watched numbly as Tim lined up a kick to Michael’s gut. 

Michael curled into a ball and began to spill apologies like the salt pouring from the upturned container in Tim’s hand. 

“Tim, stop!” Sasha cried. 

He hesitated mid-kick and stepped back. He grabbed the book from the bed, snapped it closed, and retreated to the doorway. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Michael repeated. “I tried, but she snuck up on me. Before I noticed I-- She was…” He shook with sobs. 

“Is Mary  _ here? _ What happened to Gerard?” Georgie demanded.

“I- I- I don’t think so. She felt… far away, I think. But she knows where we are now and she’ll be coming. We need to leave this place. It’s not safe anymore.” 

“Not safe?” Tim looked as if he was going to give Michael another kick but held himself back. “If she can possess you whenever she wants nowhere with you is safe for the rest of us.” 

“She’s gone now,” he insisted. 

Sasha eased Tim back from the door. “We can’t know that.” 

“What did she do to Gerard?” Georgie spat from her place on the floor. 

“I don’t know! She said she dismissed him, whatever that means. I never knew about any of this. I tried to do a favor for Miss Robinson and now I’m.. Whatever I am. Dead, sort of?” 

“Can we get him back?”

“Try reading the page, that’s what brought him here the first time,” Sasha suggested. 

“Sure,” she nodded. “Give me the book.” 

Tim passed over the thick leather volume. Georgie flinched briefly when she touched it but gritted her teeth and took hold of it. “Skip to the end,” she whispered to herself. 

Every moment she touched the skin of the book made her own flesh crawl. It was still hot, nearly uncomfortably so but rapidly cooling. It wasn’t the temperature that bothered her though, there was an almost resonance that pulled at a dark corner of herself, promising death to those who have done her wrong. She pushed the feeling aside and turned to the last page and narrowed her eyes in confusion. 

It wasn’t the same as before, the ink was faded. Illegible except for a drawing of an eye tattooed into the skin. When she’d first read Gerard’s page the words were clear, springing off the page like they were begging to be read. She recalled the passage telling of Gerard’s passing from a wasting illness, of Gertrude watching him with what he desperately hoped was sympathy but ultimately knew was poorly disguised fascination. 

She could find none of those words now, she couldn’t even find Gerard’s name among the faded letters. 

“What’s wrong?” Tim asked.

“I can’t… The words, I can’t read them.” 

“Let me try.” Sasha knelt down next to Georgie.

“I don’t think it will work for you. Gerard said I’d been touched by ‘the End’ and that’s why it even worked in the first place.” 

“Even so.” Sasha slid the book to her own lap and peered at the page. “I can see the letters but the won’t form words.” She shook her head and tried again. “It’s like trying to read when you’ve had your eyes dilated. I just can’t focus on them.” 

Michael was pacing nervously. “We need to go, she’ll be coming.” He squinted against the sunlight streaming in through the window. 

“Wait a minute.” Tim said looking outside. “The sun is up, Halloween is over. I think we won.” 

“I’m not sure,” Sasha shook her head. “It doesn’t feel like we’ve won.” 

“Gerard did say when Mary was gone he’d be free.” 

Georgie looked up at Tim. “She wasn’t gone though, she was still here after she banished Gerard, or whatever it was she did. It wasn’t until you threw a fistful of salt in Michael’s face that she was actually gone.” 

“How did you know to do that?” Sasha asked.

Tim retrieved the discarded blue cylinder from the floor. He turned it to the back and showed Georgie the tips section labeled in yellow.

She took it from him to read aloud. “To protect from witches, zombies, and old boyfriends.” 

“Good thing I’m not old,” he smirked. 

“Guys, focus!” Georgie snapped. “I’m with Sasha, I don’t think she’s gone yet.” 

“But Halloween--” 

“Isn’t the same as Samhain. The Celts mark their days from sunset to sunset. Mary still has all day to finish what she started and now she knows we have the book. We have to go.” 

“If she knows it’s here, can she track it if we move it?” Sasha looked at Michael.

“I- I told you, I don’t know anything about what is going on. Gerard would but he…” Michael’s eyes fell solemnly to the book. 

Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “We need to find somewhere we can lay a trap if she comes after us. Preferably somewhere that we won’t get arrested for trying to destroy a walking corpse. Any ideas?”

Michael jerked back at the mention of destroying corpses.

“Not you, Michael,” Sasha soothed. 

He forced out a smile and began to fidget with his knife, twirling it smoothly between his fingers absentmindedly. 

Tim eyed the blade nervously. “Hey, Knife-Hands McMike? Could you put that away? If Mary tries to possess you again, I’d rather it not be when there’s a blade in your hand.”   


Michael blinked down at his hands as if he were seeing them for the first time. “Oh,” he laughed, folding the knife away with a sigh. “Nervous habit.” 

“If the words are fading from the book does that mean they’re fading from her as well?” Georgie toyed with the corner of the cover. “Or is she somehow drawing them from the book to herself?”

Sasha laid a hand on Georgie’s arm. “Doesn’t matter right now, we need to go. Unless you’d rather bring the vengeance of a three hundred years dead witch down on your house.” 

“I did just get this place how I like it.” She gathered her resolve and climbed to her feet. “I’d much rather burn down a school.” 

 


	8. Chapter 8

“You weren’t kidding.” Tim said wide eyed as Georgie worked on the rusted padlock chaining shut a set of double doors. 

“Don’t worry, it’s been closed since they built the new high school years ago. They can’t demolish it until they deal with all the asbestos.” The lock clicked open in her hands. “Finally.” 

Sasha adjusted the strap on her bag and looked over her shoulder nervously. “It’s not the breaking and entering twice in less than twenty-four hours that bothers me, it’s doing it in the broad daylight. Too bad you’re friend isn’t the head of security here too.” 

“The Admiral? I’ve seen him around here too, he goes where he pleases.”

“Why would you--” Sasha began before catching herself. “Oh right, ghost hunting.’

“Yep!” she said brightly waiving the trio in before her. “Follow that hallway then take the third right. We’re heading to the arts wing. I’ll meet you there, I need to check for something first.” 

Tim switched on his borrowed flashlight to cut through the gloom in the building. “I’m not sure we should pull a Scooby-doo and split up.” Michael gave Tim a confused look. “It’s a-- nevermind. Let’s stay together. If Mary is as dangerous as we think, I don’t want her to get the drop on any of us.” 

Georgie shrugged at his suggestion. “If you insist. Follow me, I guess.” 

Faint light filtered in from narrow windows in the classroom doors as Georgie led them down the first hall on the left. Tim’s flashlight hit upon faded posters depicting the solar system, plants and animals local to New England, the Krebs cycle, and various other science related things. Michael kept stopping to peer into the handful of lockers that stood open and then rushing to catch up with the group. 

Georgie tried the handle of a door with the periodic table hanging from a single corner. The lock held but the motion caused the poster to finally lose its grip and fall to the floor. She dug out her lock picks and set to work. “Hopefully this is a good sign. I’m not even close than the first person to get in here. We’re more likely to find useful things behind a locked door.” 

The door swung open with a creak so loud Tim was certain police two towns over could hear and would be on their way. The windows let in more light in the classroom so he switched off the flashlight to save battery. Georgie went straight for a closet door in the back corner and set to work getting it open. Michael distracted himself with a ball and stick molecular model, turning it over in his hands. 

The dust covered teacher’s desk is what drew Sasha’s attention. “Georgie,” Sasha held up a key she found in the top drawer. “Try this.” 

“Work smarter, not harder?” 

She handed the other woman the key. “Exactly.” 

The closet was disappointingly empty save for a few scattered pieces of glassware. “Oh well, it was worth a shot. We'll just have to make do with what we brought with us.” Georgie closed and locked the closet behind her and held up the key. “I wonder…” The key worked on the classroom door as well as the door across the hall. 

“Sasha James, looks like you found us a master key!”

 

* * *

The group got themselves settled in on of the art classrooms. Arts wing was a bit of an exaggeration but there were multiple classrooms and one of them had a walk in kiln in the back. 

“There hasn’t been any power to the building in years so we can’t turn it on, but if we can get her in there we shouldn’t have to worry about too much in the way of collateral damage.”    


Sasha cocked her head slightly to the side. “But I thought you wanted to burn down a school.”    


“Well, I mean, yes,” Georgie joked, “but only because I went here. High school was awful but not actually bad enough to warrant an arson charge and jail time.” 

“True.” Sasha nodded and took in the space. “God, nostalgia is weird. I hate it but in a weird way I miss it.” They lapsed into silence as they unpacked their things and set to work. 

Eventually, Georgie found herself staring down at the spell book. Even looking at the thing tugged at the edges of the empty place inside her. She wanted to shy away from that feeling but something Gerard said made her pause and grab onto it. Mary would not win, she would fight back against the darkness. 

Against the End. 

She opened the book, it was cold now. Frost crept along the spine making the pages were stiff with ice. She turned to the final page where the last moments of Gerard Keay’s life were laid out along leather. Her eyes tried to slide off the page but Georgie would not let them. She held tight to the twin feelings of bitter loss and stubborn hope and began to read.

 

* * *

 

 

Tim didn’t notice until it was too late. Georgie was in some kind of trance over the book. It might have been the same one from before at Old Lady Robinson’s but after what happened to Michael, he couldn’t be sure. He was just about to warn Sasha when she felt it too and turned around. Michael backed away with wide eyes. A terrified zombie, the whole idea would be hilarious if not for the present situation. He groped behind him for the salt in is bag, keeping his eyes fixed on Georgie in case she suddenly turned violent. 

Her eyes fluttered closed and her rigid posture slumped forward once the words stopped flowing from her mouth. Sasha started toward her friend but Tim shouted a warning that froze her in place. They scanned the room warily as Georgie regained her bearings. 

“Georgie, what the hell was that?” Tim demanded through clenched teeth, salt at the ready. “Are you even still Georgie? You said not to read the book!” 

“I’m rather glad she did,” Gerard’s faint voice echoed from beyond the doorway. He was still dressed in midnight blue but he seemed paler than before, more translucent. He looked like he was having trouble staying upright. 

“Gerard!” Georgie called, “I was worried we wouldn’t be able to get you back.”

“You almost didn’t.” He glanced down at the line of salt across the threshold. “May I come in?”

“How do we know you’re really Gerard?” Michael asked. “I’ve fallen for too many of Mary’s tricks to take this at face value.” 

“Your favorite color is yellow and you got in trouble with Gertrude for carving spirals into the beams of the barn when you should have been working.” 

“All things Mary might know about me.” 

Gerard let out a frustrated sigh. “Do you really want me to lay out the details about your crush on John?” 

Sasha raised an appreciative eyebrow in Michael’s direction. He let out a nervous giggle and waved to the ghost on the other side of the door to stop talking. “No, that’s fine. I believe you.”

Tim cleared a path through the salt but Gerard hesitated. “Maybe I had better stay out here.” He put his hand to his head and rubbed his temple. “Something’s not right. Mary… she knows I’m back. I think she’s coming.” 

“We’re ready for her. We’ve got--”

“Stop! Don’t tell me, I can’t know, I don’t know if I can fight her off.” Gerard doubled over in pain. “Fix the barrier, if she--  _ argh!” _

“Gerard!” Georgie ran over to the doorway. She would have gone through if Tim didn’t hook her around the waist before she could. “Gerard, you can do this. Remember what you told me? Hold on, she can’t have you.” 

Gerard dropped to his knees with a cry of pain. His head fell forward, black hair obscuring his face. When he looked up the eyes glaring back at her were jet black all the way through. Malice radiated of of him in waves. 

“I will not be stopped by some idealistic, untrained, white witch.” Mary’s voice spilled from Gerard’s lips with only the barest suggestion of its true owner. “Give me the book and I  _ may _ spare you. Deny me and you will wish for the release of death that will never come.” 

Georgie faced down Mary with cold resolve. “No. If you want it, you’ll have to come here yourself and take it. No more forcing others to do it for you.” She looked to Gerard’s struggling form. “Let. Him. Go.” 

“If you insist.” Mary singsonged. Gerard shuddered as he fought against his mother’s influence. “It will be so lovely to meet you in  _ person _ , my dear.” 

She ignored Mary and spoke directly to Gerard. “Fight her, Gerard. You can do this.” 

Gerard managed to force his eyes closed and ducked his head against his chest. He grabbed his head and let out a groan of pain free from any trace of Mary’s voice. “Gerry,” he gasped, coming back to himself.

“What?”

“Gerard is what my mum calls me.” He looked back up to the rest of them hovering worriedly in the classroom. “I always wanted my friends to call me Gerry.” 

“Okay,” Georgie smiled, “Gerry.” 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter specific warning for fire near the end

There wasn’t much left to do but wait. Michael passed the time trying to teach Tim knife tricks, Sasha reconstituted some clay with a bit of bottled water, and Georgie found a set of pens she was using to sketch Gerry.

Gerry was still insistent they not tell him their plan but he did accept their offer to enter the classroom. He seemed to get stronger once he was on the same side of the barrier as the book but nothing like he was before being dismissed. The sunlight through the windows made him practically invisible and his voice sounded more and more like it was coming from the bottom of a well the longer the day stretched on.

“I wish I had brought the police scanner.” Georgie complained. “Then maybe we would have an idea of what’s going on out there. If she’s causing trouble.”

Sasha patted her on the back. “We didn’t have batteries for it. Besides, that’s not something you want leave behind if we have to get out of here in a hurry.”

“You’re right,” she sighed and went back to drawing. After a few moments she looked up. “Gerry, it just occurred to me that you dye your hair.”

Gerard self consciously tucked a strand of jet black hair behind his ear and leaned against the wall. “I do. Is that a problem?”

“I just didn’t know people back then did that.”

“Not many, but I’ve always liked it. I can be hard to maintain in the winter but a well stocked supply of herbs and roots is one of the benefits of having a witch for a mother.”  
  
“Gertrude was better appointed than the apothecary.” Michael added with pride.

“She would be, she hardly ever used any--” A crash cut him off and he shot to his feet. “Mary, she’s here.”

Sasha swallowed and looked to Tim. “Ready?”

“As ready as I will be.” He ducked into the kiln to make a last minute check. “Places everyone,” he said taking up position behind it’s door.

“Gerard,” A voice called from somewhere in the school. “Won’t you come out here and give your mother a hand?”

Gerry shook his head and winced. “She’s trying it again. Michael, do you feel anything?”

The undead blond man faced the door, fingers twitching for want of his knife. “No, she must be focusing everything on you.”

“Lucky me,” he hissed in pain.

“Go to her.” Georgie said.

_"What!?”_

“She’ll stop pushing if she thinks you’re with her. And maybe she’ll get overconfident and sloppy.”

“She doesn’t want my help, she wants to draw whatever strength I have left of myself into her.”

“So don’t let her.”

“Georgie, I--”

“Don’t let her. You can do this.”

“Gerard.” Mary called again, making Gerry’s face twist in pain.

“Lure her here and then distract her if you can. We’ll take care of the rest.”

Sasha brushed away the salt from the door and looked up at him. “Georgie’s right, you can do this.”

Gerry took a steadying breath and nodded. “Be careful and don’t trust anything she says.”

“Don’t worry,” Tim called, “we don’t plan on letting he talk.”

“Good.” Gerry stepped through the door.

 

* * *

 

She was easy enough to find, all he had to do was follow the threads tugging on his mind. “Hello, mother. You wanted to see me?”

The smile that split her face was not one of affection from a mother to her son but one of triumph; of having finally broken a stubborn horse to her will. That look wounded him more than any words she had ever spoken to him. Gerard stood tall and held tight to the gnawing feeling in his gut, using it as a shield against her.

Mary Keay took a halting step forward. Her eyes were as sharp as ever, those same fierce eyes he had seen burning out of Michael Shelly not so long ago. The rest of her looked to be in worse shape than he predicted. Her practically skeletal figure was wrapped in a rotting shroud pulled tight across her body. Every piece of exposed skin was covered with cramped Sanskrit lettering, it was too dark for him to make out the words but he could guess at what they said. She looked equal parts exhausted and rabid.

“My book, where is it?” Her voice had more power than her frail body should have allowed.

Gerard didn’t fight against the urge to answer. He simply turned back the way he’d come. “This way, we’re not far.”

He slowed to a pace Mary could keep and resisted the urge to offer a steadying arm. Not that she would have taken it with the intention to support her weight on his spectral form if he had. Gerard feared what would happen if she were to drag her fingers through him; that she would pull what was left of him into herself and grow stronger enough to kill his friends.

It seemed to take an eternity but eventually they made it to the classroom door. From where he stood, there was no evidence the rest of them had ever been there. Even the salt scattered across the floor had been swept away.

“You first,” she commanded and he obeyed.

He felt a tickle of strength return and he knew the book was close. If he felt it, he was sure Mary would as well. From the corner of his eyes he saw Sasha and Georgie against the wall on either side of the door holding buckets of clear liquid. He gave no sign that he noticed them and continued into the room.

“What do you see, Gerard?” Mary asked.

For a heartbeat, or what would have been if his heart still beat in his chest, Gerard nearly responded with ‘a trap’ but he recovered in time to answer of his own will. “Writing desks, slate-board, all the trappings of a school though they are unfamiliar in design to any school I’ve seen.”

“The book,” Mary insisted, “do you see it!?”

“No, but I can… feel it, I think.” He drifted toward the open kiln door. “It’s stronger over here.” Tim caught his eye through the crack in the door jam and nodded. “There! They hid it in the closet.”

“Don’t dawdle, bring it here!” Mary commanded.

Gerard tried, he really did. He _wanted_ to bring the book to his mother but whenever he tried to pick it up his hand passed through with a sickening wave of pain. “I can’t! My hands.” He held up his now flickering hands eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Tim.

Mary gathered her strength and strode into the room. As soon as she passed through the door Sasha and Georgie doused her with whatever was in their buckets. She screamed in shock and outrage and whirled on Georgie with an outstretched hand. “You have something that belongs to me.”

Georgie cried out and clutched her chest as Mary pulled back her arm. “Let it go, child. You’ll feel much better once it’s gone.”

“No!” Georgie forced herself to stand straight and face the witch. “It’s not for you.”

A hollow clang filled the room as Sasha struck Mary in the head with her bucket. Michael burst in from the room across the hall and tackled Mary to the ground. She struggled with the taller man, working her arms up until she got her hands on either side of his head. Mary forced the dead man to look at her. She cried out in some long dead language as her eyes flashed a bright orange and her body went limp.

“She’s in Michael!” Gerard yelled. Mary’s focus was on Michael now, freeing him entirely from her influence.

Michael was up a half second later grappling with Georgie. Sasha jumped on his back, pinning his arms to his sides. It didn’t last as he threw her off with an inhuman roar and she crashed into a desk.

“Sasha!” Tim cried and pushed out from behind the door.

Gerard turned to Tim. “Wait! Destroy her body and this all ends. We have to do it now while we have the chance.”

Tim shot a pained glance to where Sasha lay groaning. “This had better work.” He grabbed Mary’s insensate body under the arms and dragged her toward the kiln.

Mary was too busy trying to get Michael’s hands around Georgie’s throat to notice what was happening behind her. Sasha pulled herself unsteadily to her feet and looked around the room, trying to decide what to do next.

“Sasha,” Tim called. “The flare!”

Her eyes lit up with understanding. She moved carefully away from the puddles of flammable liquid on the floor and struck the cap. The flare hissed to life in a shower of red sparks finally drawing the attention of Mary Keay. Michael’s hands dropped from Georgie and he made a mad dash across the room.

It was too late, Sasha hurled the flare in the kiln and Tim slammed the door behind it. The fire roared to life, fueled by the chemicals soaking Mary’s body. Michael faltered and crashed to the floor as Mary’s scream tore from his throat. He struggled weakly, begging Gerard to help is mother as the flames reduced Mary’s corpse to ash. The orange light guttered out of his eyes leaving Michael, now himself again, to lay on the floor gasping for breath.

"I don't know about you," Tim said as the dust settled. "But as far as dangerous things to encounter in a school, I'd prefer asbestos." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't help myself


	10. Chapter 10

Sasha’s shoulder was turning a nasty shade of purple but she didn’t seem like she had a concussion. Even so, Tim practically glued himself to her side in case they were wrong. It took some doing but they managed to get Michael to stop apologizing for what he’d done under Mary’s influence. 

Gerry hadn’t left the kiln, continuing to stare at what was left of Mary and her book. “I need to keep watch,” he said as Georgie approached. “If I’m still here it’s not over.” 

“Gerard-- Gerry…” Georgie reached out to lay a hand on his shoulder but thought better of it. “She’s gone, the book is gone. The only thing left is your page.”    
  
He whipped his head to face her, fear and confusion plain on his face. “What do you mean?”

“We tore your page out of the book in case Mary got her hands on it. We thought it would make it harder for her to…” 

Gerry looked again at the smoking remains of his mother. “We should spread them on holy ground.” 

“You could stay. There are plenty of ghosts in Magnus, what’s one more?”

“No, we can’t risk any part of that book surviving. You need to burn my page.”

“Okay, but can we do it,” Georgie looked at the mess of the classroom, “somewhere else?”

“I’d like that.”

 

* * *

 

They spread Mary’s ashes not across one churchyard but five different cemeteries each in a different part of town on their way to Gerry’s chosen resting place. In the light of day, Old Lady Robinson’s place looked like any other restored colonial house that dotted New England. The commemorative plaque indicating the house as a historical site glinted in the late morning sunlight. 

Tim held back a step. “I can’t believe we’re returning to the scene of the crime. I get that we needed to destroy the book but--” 

“It doesn’t open for another few hours.” Georgie retrieved the container of cat treats from her purse and shook them. “We can deal with that later.”

“You don’t need to bother the Admiral. I think I’d rather do this outside, if you don’t mind.” 

“Of course, there’s a some benches in the garden around the back.” 

Georgie led them to a circle of stone benches surrounded by manicured bushes. The Admiral lounged on his side in a patch of sunlight pretending to ignore them as they walked past. Gerry sat cross legged on the ground in the center as the others took their seats around him. 

“Do we… say something?” Tim asked.

Michael looked worried. He hadn’t spoken since they deposited the last of Mary’s remains. But he couldn’t hold it back and the words burst from him. “What happens to me when…” 

Gerry bit his lip. “I’m not sure. You were never a part of the book. If you haven’t dissipated by sunset I think you might be around for good.” Michael’s eyes went wide with surprise. “A-are you alright? Would you rather… rest?”

“No!” Michael’s nervous laughter startled the Admiral from his nap. “If this is my life now, I’d rather keep it.” He rubbed his hands on his knees and sighed with a measure of relief. 

Gerry turned back to Georgie with a nod. “I’m ready,” he scanned the worried faces of the others. “Unless there’s anything else?”

Sasha looked like she wanted to say something but instead shook her head and leaned against Tim. The Admiral sauntered into the circle and rubbed his flank against Gerry’s side (more or less) and then flopped down in front of him in a manner that practically screamed, ‘pet my belly’. 

Gerry huffed out a quiet laugh, muttered, “cats,” under his breath. The Admiral purred loudly as he ghosted his fingers along the his black fur. There was a meow of protest when he pulled his hand away and folded it in his lap. 

He settled himself and nodded to Georgie. “Do it.” 

She fumbled briefly with the lighter but managed a steady flame on the third try. “We’ll miss you, Gerry.” 

For a moment it looked like the page wouldn’t catch then a flame curled up from the bottom. Georgie held onto it for as long as she could before dropping it to the ground between them. 

Gerry closed his eyes and waited for oblivion to take him. It tickled. No, that was the Admiral climbing into his lap. He appreciated the comfort in his last moments and idly ran his fingers through soft fur. Suddenly the purring cut off and he felt claws dig into the flesh of his hand. 

“Ow!” He opened his eyes to see the Admiral wrapped around his right hand like a furry bear trap. 

“Gerry,” Sasha breathed.” 

He looked worriedly up to her. “What is it? Did it not work? Is Mary here?”

“No,” Tim said pointing. “Look at your hand.” 

“It’s just a scratch, I’ll--” A small flash of red caught his eye as a trickle of blood welled up from the back of his very solid hand. “How…”

Georgie pointed down to the wispy ash taking flight on the autumn breeze. “That was the last of the book. You’re free.”

Gerry flopped back on the ground with a laugh. The Admiral sniffed Gerry’s head and started to chew on his hair. He couldn’t bring himself to push the cat away. The sun warmed his face despite the chill in the air, all of the smells he hadn’t noticed were gone came flooding back to him. For the first time since he could remember Gerard Keay felt truly alive. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And then the Admiral sat on his face because that's what happens when you lie down and there is a cat around


	11. Epilogue

The theft of Old Lady Robinson’s spell book was swept quietly under the rug. Only a handful of historical society members knew that the tasteful sign reading “Out for Restoration” was ultimately replaced by a reproduction. There were rumors, of course once but no one spoke of it above a whisper. Especially not while the head of the Magnus Historical Society was around. From time to time Elias Bouchard would fix Georgie with a knowing look that she always returned with a pleasant smile.

 

* * *

 

Georgie insisted Gerard move into her spare room. The two of them ghost hunt together on a regular basis sometimes accompanied by Sasha and Tim. She’s thinking about starting up a podcast. Gerry isn’t looking forward to the day they come across a ghost of someone Mary or Gertrude killed. It is almost certain to eventually happen and it will be awkward.

 

* * *

 

Michael started working as a costumed street performer in Salem doing juggling and knife tricks for tourists. He eventually moved to New York City where no one bats an eye at a zombie walking around and living his unlife to the fullest.

 

* * *

 

The Admiral adopted Georgie and Gerard. He took well to his new pampered lifestyle and is especially fond of the radiator.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, not sorry for the sappy "everyone lives" ending  
> Unlike Thackary, Gerry doesn't have someone waiting for him on the other side, at least someone he would want to see (Gertrude doesn't count) and I really like the idea of Actual Zombie Michael Shelly as a successful street performer.


End file.
